


A New Perspective

by MagpieMorality



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Baby Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Blood and Gore mention, Gen, He is not NSFW, Insecurity, No one is unsympathetic everyone is morally complex, Remus Sanders' Inner Monologue, There will be a happy ending, body horror mention, death mention, post putting others first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24572182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieMorality/pseuds/MagpieMorality
Summary: After the events of the latest video Roman is struggling. He can't quite get his mind around the new way of thinking he's been exposed to, so what else is a side to do but just... start over?So what if that leaves the role of Creativity somewhat unfilled- there's already a backup ready.This is currently ON HIATUS
Comments: 60
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A story that was meant to be for Roman’s birthday but is now going to span from Roman’s to Remus’ birthdays. AKA this has got away from me and now will be a chaptered fic for June...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman isn't doing so hot after the last video...

Roman flees the scene like a Hollywood movie heroine. He can almost imagine the flapping of his dress, the glass slippers, the shouts of pursuit. His room, his very own dear version of Thomas’ home warps and shifts, the corridors dragging on forever as he runs and runs. The stairs take his gold shoe, but he can’t stop, pulling up his skirts as they change colour again and again, his own feelings mixing and merging with Thomas’ imagination until he’s falling, sprawling down out of the front door onto the ground. His hair is long, dark ringlets, voice high and breathy as he gasps and sobs out his emotion dryly, feeling the burn in his chest of a thousand end of Act Two broken solos. He is Eliza Hamilton, Heather McNamara, Rizzo, Evan Hansen, Jenna Hunterson and he... he is Thomas Sanders and he _hurts_. 

But what he isn’t is Thomas’ Prince. He’s just Roman, and just Roman- is he enough? He wants to belt out his agony on a stage to rapturous applause, to know his place in the story and remember his lines because it feels like what happened today was every actor’s nightmare of getting onstage and not knowing the script. He tried to improvise, to take his cues from the rest of the cast but they were... they were in a different play to him. They were doing something new and he hadn’t had time to rehearse and the director- he still thinks of Patton as their director no matter what happened- is watching his performance and giving him notes he’s not had before. 

_You’re playing the Prince wrong, Roman, the Prince isn’t like that._ Except for all the times he’s been like that in the past and he’s _Roman’s_ character why does everyone else seem to know his part better than he does?!

Roman sniffs. He’s not crying, not yet, but the tears prickle at his face and his lip trembles and his sobbing breaths sound like they're close. He pulls his knees to his chest as the dress fades away and leaves him in his costume. Not clothes, costume. It’s part of his character, but maybe the play is over now? Maybe he’s just struggling to disengage from the story. 

It’s just too hard to reconcile, and as the door sways gently on the breeze, tempting him back inside, he drags himself upright and back into the house, to find his bed. He wonders, as he lies there, if Thomas is doing the same in his room. He doesn’t want to reach forwards and find out. 

He wants things to make sense again. He wants to get his new script and understand. 

And that’s how he falls asleep, wishing to wake up from this nightmare day. Maybe his dreams will be kinder.

Out in reality Thomas flinches, pressing a hand to his temple, kart derailing on screen as Lee crows in triumph and takes first place. Thomas laughs it off, wondering what it was, but the pain is gone and his friends are not, and he has a mushroom trophy to win. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas figures out that something is not so good in the hood.

It got to Roman’s birthday before anything changed. Life went on as usual, the introduction of Janus doing little to upset the balance of Thomas’ life, which was a blessing to everyone. They relaxed, they recovered, they rested and prepared for the next inevitable complication to come.

Pride month started in all its glittery, colourful glory, and out in the strange world he lived in Thomas celebrated with his friends as best he could. But within his mind the sides… didn’t. Not because of a lack of pride, no, but because usually the task of arranging such things fell to their resident Gay Disney Prince and this year there was no sign of him- not so much as a rainbow flag on the wall. After such a tough latest video, none of them felt the urge to push too hard when Roman just didn’t surface right away, not when things were still so delicate and new. But three days later, as Roman’s birthday rolled around, their lack of proud prince finally came to the attention of Thomas himself.

Thomas was usually pretty adept at calling his sides to the front of his mind. Often just thinking about them consciously helped draw them out- and Roman’s birthday came with plenty of thoughts about the side himself- but by the time most of the day had passed and Thomas had spent many long and wonderful hours looking at art and messages and well wishes, _he still hadn’t appeared_. That wasn't just weird; it was worrying. Of all the sides to revel in not just the month they were celebrating, but his own birthday and all the attention and creative gifts that came with it- Roman was the one who fit the bill. He wouldn't give up the opportunity for a little (or a lot, and boy was there a lot) external validation, would he?

Was he really hurting that badly still, months on from the video?

Maybe he was.

Either way, Thomas needed to speak to him, and stat, to figure out what was going on and how he could help. But attempt one at calling him failed. Attempt two failed harder. Attempt three brought Virgil up, and their eyes locked in surprise.

"What are you-"

"I didn't mean t-"

They shared an awkward chuckle at the clumsy attempt to talk, before Virgil waved for Thomas to go ahead. "Sorry, I didn't mean to call you. I'm looking for Roman, for his birthday. Is he busy?" Please be busy.

"Oh uh," Virgil frowned, casting his eyes down as he considered. "I don't think so? I haven't seen him either. Figured he'd be here with you, I guess."

"No sign. Nothing for pride, either. Is he… are you all okay?"

The question made Virgil wince. "Yeah, maybe? I'm not the best person to ask. Everything is weird now. I mean, I thought it was such a big deal, that I was once a dark side, but after D-Janus? It's kinda moot, right?"

Oh boy, Thomas had entirely forgotten that this was a conversation they needed to have. "Not _moot_ , so much as, maybe just not something to worry about so much? I know saying that doesn't stop you from… having worried, you know, in the past, but maybe it'll help from now a little bit. You can breathe easy, Virgil. But also thanks, again, for telling me the truth. I do value that."

Virgil's eyebrows ticked up in faint hope and he let himself smile as Thomas watched. With a quick salute he replied. "I'll go ask around for Princey. But maybe call on the others, Logan is good at keeping track but uh," he sighed reluctantly, "Janus is a good bet if you want information, I guess."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh, no, sure. I didn't even consider that. But thanks. Again. And Virgil?"

The side tilted his head.

"Happy pride!" Thomas grinned, getting a bigger smile from Virgil before the side sank down to get started on his search. That could have gone worse! It was like Virgil said though, slightly moot within the context of all the big deal stuff that had recently happened, which was… not unproblematic of itself but . And okay, maybe Thomas was overreacting to Roman's absence, because it really had been relatively recent. Maybe not long enough for someone to completely reconsider their world view.

But no, missing his birthday was not normal, even with that taken into account.

It was going to be a long night. Thomas could tell already.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The triumphant return of Roman! Or, maybe not so much...

"Thomas?" Virgil's hesitant voice had Thomas up on his feet in a moment, chest tight with hope. "We uh, we found him."

"You did?!"

"We-" a sigh cut off the reply. "Sort of. Prepare yourself, okay? It's not what you think. Patton, you want to come up now?"

The noise that accompanied Patton, joining Virgil and Logan up in the living room, was an unusual one, though not unrecognisable. It was the sound of a child's laughter, and while Thomas definitely didn't have a shortage of kids in his life through various friends and family; he wasn't supposed to have one in his house today.

Patton barely looked at him when he showed up, eyes fixed on the- yeah that was an actual child in his arms. It was weird, the kid kinda looked like Thomas had when he was young. Dressed in a red and white baby-grow…

"What the f-!"

" _Thomas_!" Everyone hissed at him together, four looks of disapproval turned his way. Patton even clapped his hand over the kid's ear, for all the good that would do. But Thomas held his hands up in apology anyway.

"Yikes, guys. Sorry. But that looks like me! And… Roman?"

"Thomas!" The child squeaked, throwing his little hands up. He couldn't have been more than a few years old, and despite the hammering of his steadily more concerned heart Thomas smiled at the little guy and waved at him.

The entire room melted, including Thomas. "Oh he's _so cute you guys!_ " He gasped, clutching his hands to his chest as Roman started babbling at Patton, playing with the sweater arms around his neck as Patton very seriously responded back to him, apparently able to understand every word. Maybe it was a dad power thing. "But, why is he so small?"

Logan cleared his throat and exchanged a glance with Virgil. "Well we, we don't entirely know. But he seems to have differing memories than his larger self, so my theory is some sort of regression rather than a simple change of shape."

"He didn't look like he knew me at all," Virgil added in a whisper. "But then Patton introduced us and he was super friendly. It was… weird." But good, if the faint smile on his face was anything to go by, Thomas thought to himself. "But he's not gonna be so good at the video stuff like this, Thomas. I don't know, maybe you should take a break while we figure things out. Life's weird anyway, why not have a vacation? Or do you think your fans will resent you having time off while they need distractions more than ever? Oh no, would they all unsubscribe if you just-"

"That's enough of that, thank you."

"De- oh no we don't do that anymore," Logan muttered, clearing his throat after the initial cut-off screech of Janus' previous alias.

"Appreciate it. Thomas, you- is that baby Roman?" All eyes turned once again to the kid Patton still held, the sweater firmly in his mouth as he sucked on it. Janus' eyes were widest of all, and he did several double takes. Thomas was a little concerned for his neck. "Why is Roman… a baby?!"

"Well, uh…" Thomas floundered. "No, we don't know. I don't know. Logan thinks it's a regression and he can't do his job, but why would that happen?"

The room went quiet apart from Roman's soft squishing sounds as he chewed the damp fabric in his mouth. No one seemed to have an answer for that, until Janus carefully and softly cleared his throat, looking at his feet. "Could it be to do with the video?" He suggested, the words coming out slow and strangled as though he was half trying to keep them in. Virgil shot him a narrow-eyed look but Thomas and Logan both lifted their heads. It was a good suggestion.

"Explain?" Logan urged, waving a hand magnanimously.

Janus inspected his gloves. "Well, he was incredibly upset and left in a hurry. I don't know how he's been around you all since but I'm sure he would have had a lot of thinking to do. Roman is a product of an old, black and white way of thinking- the existence of Remus as you conceive him is proof enough of that. Trying to reconcile his, ah, ignorance I suppose, might be quite hard. He's not exactly designed to evolve the way say, Patton is." He glanced around. "But I don't know if that's remotely on target. How was he yesterday?"

"Yesterday? We haven't seen Roman in… weeks!" Patton interjected, face falling slowly into uncertainty. "Weeks. Since the video! Oh _no_."

"But that was ages ago!"

"It sure was," Virgil muttered.

"None of you have seen him? At all?!"

"He has been uncharacteristically absent, it's true. However we simply assumed that he was still processing. As you pointed out, he does not evolve easily."

"And you didn't think to check on him?!"

"Hey ana- _con_ -da, cool it with the shouting!" Virgil snapped. "We are checking on him, right now."

Janus threw his hands up. "On his birthday! Over a month later! I can't believe you guys, I thought you were friends!"

"Woah, woah, okay let's calm it down here," Thomas said, stepping in at last. His head was still spinning a little from all the information and realisations. Processing was… a process. "So he's been awol for a while,"

" _Nice,_ " he heard Virgil murmur.

"-And now he comes back as a kid. With lost memories."

"With _what?!_ "

Janus' exclamation only set the arguing off again, and Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. At least Roman seemed more curious than upset by the noise, and while Virgil looked pretty het up he didn't seem actively panicked.

Patton though, was gazing thoughtfully at little Roman with a slight frown, lower lip sucked into his mouth while Thomas watched. What was that all about?

"Hey guys?" The side in question called, raising his voice enough to cut neatly through the argument. Maybe another dad power, Thomas thought. "Maybe we should just… ask Roman?"

Roman squirmed down from his perch and crawled over to Thomas, waving his hands with a whine until he was picked back up again. They faced each other, nose to nose, and Thomas heard the sound of breath being held around the room as he steeled himself to ask, "Roman, what happened to you?"

For a moment nothing happened, until Roman focused really hard, screwing his little face up, and reaching forwards towards Thomas' face. Closer and closer his hands came, forcing Thomas to go cross-eyed to look at them, until they landed on his cheeks. What would it mean? Was Roman going to communicate telepathically somehow? Was he trying to explain?

"Boop!" Roman shrieked, bursting into joyful giggles and holding Thomas' face.

"Well shit," Thomas muttered.

" _Thomas!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of baby Roman! This was the driving idea behind this whole story way back when!! He's just adorable okay?!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus and Thomas have their own overdue conversation.

So Roman was a bust. The other sides were a bust. Janus' suggestion seemed the most reasonable and logical one, but the details were unclear, and that was a problem because if they had no idea _how_ Roman had become the way he had, or _why_ , then how would they help him change back? And how long would it take?

Virgil had started spiraling over Thomas being left with no creativity and having to quit his job forever and various other nightmare scenarios so Patton had sat him down for playtime with baby Roman. They were in the middle of a very serious game of blocks, stacking them up and knocking them down on the carpet by the TV with Patton supervising, and Virgil seemed a lot calmer. It made Thomas smile to see, and twinge guiltily as well, because their talk had been… lacking. It wasn't that he thought he needed a giant heart to heart with Virgil over their no-longer-an-issue but it would be good to just sit and chat without the looming threat of impending existential crises or otherwise. Thomas promised himself that when this situation was cleared up he'd call Virgil for some one on one time over coffee, maybe relive some of his emo teenage youth and dance around to loud music yelling the lyrics together.

Heck he could even make a video around retrying old trends, decorating some converse or something. Virgil might like that.

But for now Roman had to be the priority. He just couldn't stay a kid forever if Thomas was going to do his job. He needed Creativity around, and he was a little disheartened to realise that it had been a while since he'd really impressed that upon the side. Maybe he was part of the problem…

"You're listening to Virgil too much again," a mild voice interrupted his thoughts. Thomas looked up, and Janus stood there, hovering by the couch holding two mugs of herbal tea. He held one out and Thomas took it with a twitch of a grateful smile, inhaling deeply as Janus settled beside him on the couch at a careful distance, not too close but not awkwardly far. "It will be alright. You have to cut yourself some slack. This is exactly the sort of thing that arises when you personify your aspects; they grow personalities and act out. And the issues you might usually internalise become shockingly external. Though I think you already knew all that."

From Virgil to Roman to Janus. Thomas studied his newest ally curiously, glad for the distraction. "You're really smart, you know?" He said, shocking Janus into stillness. "You are. You might not have had great methods but, you're right, I personified you. Maybe I gave you a starting disadvantage. And yet here we are; you got here anyway."

"It was hardly an easy journey," Janus muttered. Thomas thought he saw the shadow of a frown pass over his face. "But yes, I'm here. And, as always, I'm here for _you_. We all are, really, even Patton though he tends to display a rather unhealthy disregard for your welfare over others…"

"It's the religious upbringing, I think we're working through it."

"Yes, and not a moment too soon. But I-"

"I'm Thomas."

"… What?" Janus squinted. "I know that."

"No," Thomas sighed, taking Janus' mug and putting both of them down on the coffee table, holding a hand out. It was past time he made an effort here- there'd been too much silence, too many assumptions and miscommunications and things left unsaid for far too long. "I'm Thomas. It's nice to meet you. We were never properly introduced."

Janus blinked, expression as open as it had ever been. "Oh. I-" he took the hand in a shy, gloved grip. "I'm Janus. I'm your… self-preservation, for all that means."

"Guess it means kinda a lot of things. Why don't you fill me in, Janus?" Thomas replied, smiling warmly. Maybe he couldn't fix Roman just then but he could start to right a few other wrongs he'd dug up throughout the whole wedding-and-aftermath debacle. From the way Janus' entire body seemed to lift and light up he figured it was the right decision, and he pulled his mug back to his chest as Janus slowly set off on his reply, faltering at first but soon letting the words flow out with ease. They didn't notice Logan return and wisely opt not to interrupt, taking a seat on the floor with the other three instead. Nor did they notice the creak of a door from upstairs and a pair of eyes peer through the tiny gap at the very top of the banisters where they met the ceiling, looking over the group closely in secret until they fixed on the littlest side happily babbling on the floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on Tumblr then you may have seen the announcement that WIP works won't be updated there, only on here, which- bonus!- means these chapters might actually come out a lot quicker because I won't be pandering to the Hour Of Most Engagement!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The watcher on the stairs gets his inner monologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Remus' inner monologue (non-graphic violence, animosity towards the other sides)

"Fee, fi, fo, fum. I smell the blood of a little one…" Remus murmured, drumming his fingers on the banister. His eyes were fixed on the kid in the centre of the room, surrounded by adoring and above all _apologetic_ adult sides. And Thomas. Whose apology probably meant more than all the others combined, seeing as how it _was_ all the others combined. Well bully for you, Roman.

Bully for you.

Remus sniffed regally, nose twitching and nearly disrupting the fake mustache he'd so loving super-glued on there all those years ago. It had been much larger when he'd first acquired it, of course, but after a brief experiment with how it might look as it pulled his growing skin painfully tighter and tighter, it had been adjusted to his current vaudevillian style. It was modeled after a whole host of inspirational icons; Groucho Marx, Charlie Chaplin, Albert Einstein, and none other than Remus' personal fave- Nikola Tesla. A man who invented a death ray as easily as falling in love with a pigeon (and what an icon he was for that second part, honestly) was a role model Remus wanted to aspire to be like. That was the true brilliance of 'crazy ideas', after all. The real value in 'dark creativity'.

If only everyone else saw it that way.

Well bully for them, too!

Maybe in hindsight, Remus thought, he should have adopted the mad scientist personage instead of the Duke, but back then it had been the natural choice (whose choice though- his or _Thomas's?_ Better not think too hard on that one) to contrast against poor, sweet, innocent Roman. Dressed in white, fainting at the mention of blood or failure, winning the day with his blindingly charming smile. Truly madly _deeply_ believing that Creativity was a wholly pure and chaste thing, of fairytales and Disney princes, children's giggles and light all around. Like the Grimm Brothers, or furry porn artists just, didn't exist! Ugh, had regressing to a little boy even changed Roman at all? Fuck, Remus wanted to just shake him until he turned into a demon-monster, Jack Jack style. Now _that_ would be some good fucking character development.

Trust Roman to take one look at his own moral complexities and impending growth and nope right the heck out of there into the literal embodiment of innocence.

The banisters creaked as Remus' hands tightened around them, and he had to spill his form from the human shape into inky shadow out of sight before anyone could look and see him lurking there. Not that anyone would; a creak in the house would barely register over the noise of sweet, cute Roman, and- Remus scoffed, difficult as it was while impersonating a cloud of squid ink- it wasn't like they'd noticed anyone was _missing_.

Roman's absence, on the other hand, they'd notice.

Or would they?

Remus alighted on the ceiling back in his usual frills and face, sitting upside down with his legs crossed, defying gravity (and turning his skin green to match) while he thought about that little tidbit of information. From what he'd overheard they actually _hadn't_ noticed, and that might have been the main source of their guilt. It had taken Roman's absence on his own _birthday_ (Remus scoffed again- he didn't think much of the concept himself) to discover that the side had changed at all. Somehow, despite the massive regression Roman had gone through, his role hadn't gone remotely unfilled, and wasn't that… interesting. Had Roman really changed so little that even turning into an _actual child_ hadn't stopped Thomas working as normal? Good _fucking_ god, Thomas. Are you _that_ boring?!

The one and only thing that kept Remus from yeeting himself back to the deepest part of the subconscious where he could hang out away from the sanctimonious and self-congratulatory other sides to occasionally fling the worst of impulses Thomas' conscious way (and hoarding the really fun ones to himself, because sometimes he didn't… want Thomas to suffer), was the fact that if _Remus_ was chafing at the constraints of the good wholesome family friendly content vibe Thomas had going on; then so was some part of _Thomas_. And honestly praise the lord of naughty thoughts Satan himself, because otherwise Remus might as well have given up on existence entirely. It was still frustrating as all hell, because Thomas was hiding that feeling so deep down Remus could barely and rarely rise to consciousness, but it was _there_ and that had kept him going for many long years and would keep him going for many more to come. Besides, if his companion in subconsciousness Virgil could get out by becoming so disruptive he turned into a legit disorder Thomas couldn't ignore, then surely his own Intrusive Thoughts self could do the same! Hard to ignore something that affected you day to day, right? Or night to night; Remus had found the moments before sleep the most easy to break through, when the rest of the sides weren't concentrating too hard or stealing Thomas' precious attention.

At least, that had been the plan before Thomas had _recoiled at the sight of him entirely_ at their first face-to-face meeting. Maybe Remus had come on too strong too soon (snert), or maybe he was just the bad guy (sad snert, Robbie Rotten style). But he could deal with that fact! Or he _could've_ done if Patton Morality Dad Sanders himself hadn't declared Thomas the Most Precious BeanTM and therefore outlawed and divorced Thomas' own mind from an entire part of himself.

Oh well, nothing for it now but damage control. Damage control and _maybe_ a little fun and games with the rest of the sides. 

Remus allowed himself a quiet evil chuckle before sloping off to plot. It would be dramatic, it would be disgusting, it would be _despicable_. It would be the plot to end all plots, he would show the sides what he could really do, and-

"Remus?"

\- jump up about six feet into the air with a glass-shatteringly high pitched shriek as someone said his name from halfway up the stairs. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus has a few questions to answer. Is it even possible for him to give a straightforward answer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus' inner monologue does not get any better than last chapter. Graphic thoughts of all kinds ensue, but they are roughly teenager appropriate.

"Logan!" Remus drawled, slapping on his biggest, most unsettling grin as he faced the side hovering halfway up the staircase. Logan didn't seem overly impressed, but that wasn't unusual. Sometimes Remus wondered if he was a victim of the childhood 'if you keep making that face the wind will change and you'll get stuck like that', except that the face Logan had made had been an impression of a Victorian headmaster sucking on a lemon. It was a working theory- Remus hadn't yet had the chance to confirm or disprove it, but it was on his to-do list. "I was just... going to not be here."

Logan finished ascending the stairs and stopped in front of him, smoothing down his shirt and tie and pinning Remus with his horribly stern look. The one that made him seem like he was looking through to your soul like a less blonde Galadriel. Or maybe he just had x-ray vision and was cataloguing all the nerves and blood vessels he could see. Maybe he could see Remus' _brain!_ Another theory to test onto the to-do list. "Yes, I can see that. What were you doing eavesdropping in secret?"

"No eaves dropped here, only sick beats. Or maybe sick _beets_..." A few rotten beets appeared from thin air at the thought, falling onto the carpet with a dull squelching sound and splatting all over their shoes. Logan didn't even wrinkle his nose and Remus pouted, waving a hand to discard them. His games were just no fun when the audience refused to participate. 

"Are you aware of the situation with Roman?" Logan said instead, eyes still fixed on Remus' face. "I don't suppose you, as both his counterpart and frequent antagonist, would know anything about what's going on?"

"Oh specs," Remus chuckled, bringing a dramatic hand to his chest. "Moi? You want _my_ help and input?" In a flash he was within a hair's breadth of Logan's body, unpleasant breath fanning over the other side's face and making him blink as he finished in a whisper, "are you _sure?_ " 

It came as no great surprise that Logan simply took a small step back and pulled his glasses off, rubbing the faint misting off them nonchalantly. "It wouldn't be my first choice, admittedly. But we are somewhat at a loss for ideas and answers, and your appearance and secretive behaviour up here leads me to suspect- however impulsively- that you may have some involvement. You have ah, removed Roman from the equation before, if you recall."

Almost a year ago in fact. Yes, Remus recalled. He recalled it vividly, sometimes in ways it hadn't quite happened, with Roman's head caving in under the mace Remus had forgotten to turn foam for the video, or with Roman dying slowly and horribly on the carpet while Thomas screamed and his mind shut off forever, plunging the rest of them into an unending darkness. Or sometimes, even _worse_ (or better?) with the mace bonking right off Roman's skull and rebounding into Remus' own face, leaving him nose- and toothless, unable to eat or breathe except perhaps through several tubes. Maybe he'd have to live under a permanent helmet like Darth Vader or use a funky neck thing like Abe Sapiens... _Those_ recollections often drifted off on and on into thousands of other gripping directions, giving way to the frantic googling of post world war plastic surgery or the effects of a totally liquid diet on the human body.

Out loud, in response to Logan's point, he simply hummed. 

For whatever reason that apparently didn't quite satisfy Logan, who finally frowned (upsetting, that it was Remus _not_ doing anything that got the reaction he so craved, but interesting to note). "Well? I don't enjoy jumping to conclusions in such an illogical way but you must agree there is some fairly compelling evidence and precedent for my assumption. Between us though- while we are devoid of some of the more... emotional sides- I won't be getting angry if that is the case. I would simply request you put him back to normal please. We need Roman at full operating power I'm afraid, particularly in these trying times. The fans are in need and for once our creative work is providing a provably necessary function to society. It could harm his reputation and influence if he did not take this chance."

"These what now?" Remus tilted his head, catching it when he tilted too far and it rolled down his arm, and sticking it firmly back onto his neck.

Logan blinked twice and sighed. "If you aren't going to be of help voluntarily then I shall have to bring you downstairs," he warned, making Remus' spine tingle with the low note of threat. 

"Oh do you _promise?_ " He purred back, shoving his hands out towards the other side. "Cuff me, take me in officer, I'm all for it!" And with a wink he added, "my safe word is farts." 

Unfortunately Logan did _not_ cuff his eagerly waiting wrists, but just rolled his eyes and reached out for his shoulder, tugging him along and calling out as they made their way down into the living room. "I have a suspicious character here, Thomas. If anyone is in the know as to Roman's condition, it will likely be Remus. He has been reticent to answer my questions but you may have better luck. I believe he thrives on your attention."

"Seems fake but okay," Virgil mumbled, only glancing once at Remus before pointedly focusing on the blocks with Roman. Patton was also eyeing him warily from the carpet and the expression on Janus' face was most unreadable but tinged with something Remus figured could either be trepidation; or trapped gas. Holy fuck what the fucking shit? _Janus_. Who was sitting next to Thomas. Sharing mugs of tea. 

That was new. 

_Bully for you too then, two-face._

Remus' attention was grabbed by the other occupant of the couch before he could do more than narrow his eyes sourly at the dapper side. Thomas stood up, wiping his hands on his pants, and gave Janus and Virgil both quick smiles before approaching Logan and Remus at the bottom of the stairs. It took a lot of effort for Remus not to just poof himself away, or blurt out anything gross or inappropriate or just plain bad, but he managed ( _ ~~for Thomas~~_ ). Unfortunately his tactic was to swallow his tongue temporarily, but at least no one could _see_. Thomas looked at him seriously, the weight of his brown eyes setting off a bunch of snakes wriggling in Remus' gut, and opened his mouth. "Hi Remus," he started with, stern but not sharp. "Is Logan right? Can you help us with Roman?" 

"You're asking _him_ for help?!" Virgil shrieked. 

"You're _asking_ me for _help_?" Remus spluttered at the same time. 

"Oh boy..." Janus muttered from the couch, drawing his feet up onto the cushions and holding his mug protectively, watching the unfolding events with rapt attention and a healthy amount of wary caution. 

Virgil rounded on Thomas and Logan in turn, betrayal twisting up his eyebrows. "You guys can't be serious. Even if he _did_ have any information about this-" he waved vaguely at Roman, allowing the boy to catch and play with his fingers on the way past, "- it's not like he'd ever _share_ it! Remus is not helpful!" 

Yeowch. Although, fair, Remus thought to himself, tilting his head to the side and catching it when it fell off. Again. "Ahem," he cleared his throat, and waiting for everyone's attention to turn where it belonged- on him, and waiting for them to stop gagging or grimacing at his temporary decapitation. There hadn't even been any blood or gore or anything, honestly, what drama gays they all were. "I hate to agree with Virgil but he's half right. I'm _not_ helpful- I know jack fuck-"

_"Remus!"_ Patton gasped, clasping a righteously offended hand to his pure and perfect chest. Remus ignored him. 

"- about what's going on. But I'm glad you asked Thomas, that is the first step to accepting a little chaos into your life after all." His wink was accompanied by a flourish of his fingers and Thomas blinked, probably imagining how much better and more fun things were going to be with Remus around. "And I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each other now Roman is a tiny poop-machine!"

The living room fell temporarily quiet but for the sounds of baby Roman babbling as he folded and unfolded Virgil's fingers. Little wispy outfits had appeared on each one; a princess, a fairy, a prince and... the villain. Remus wrinkled his nose and debated twisting the creation, but one glance at the tension on the faces of his sort-of-family-sort-of-colleagues made him stop himself. Janus made room as Thomas stepped back and sat heavily on the couch, deflating with a sigh laden with feeling. Logan moved to sit on the armchair, clasping his hands loosely in his lap and gazing at their main self while Thomas thought like it was an Olympic sport and he was representing the world in an inter-planetary competition where the prize was getting to blow up the other worlds and assert dominance over the galaxy forevermore. Remus drifted off into that little fun idea for a few minutes before conversation filtered back through to his ears and dragged him unmercifully back into the room, the sounds of vicious alien screams and laser guns fading out to nothing. Not that the voices of the others were much of an improvement... Remus preferred the slick sounds of dismemberment by a mile. 

The cup rolled in Janus' hands as he answered something Logan had said, tongue probing anxiously at the lipless corner of his mouth. "I mean he is the fairy-tale side, right? If anything was to work then that would be it. But wouldn't we just be returning to the same situation as before with little improvement?" 

"I think we need him back in order to make those improvements. I don't see a way to change anything about how Roman feels while he is in a state of utter denial." Logan scratched at his chin. "However he does seem to have some handle on his abilities, at least. Thomas, how do you feel? Creative?"

Thomas spared the barest of glances at Remus before shrugging. "I suppose so? I thought up a video idea earlier, but..." He glanced over again. "It could've been Remus I guess? I wanted to decorate some converse with Virgil maybe"- Virgil's head lifted in surprise- "and that's vandalism, technically, but it's also pretty normal and trendy, so who does that fall under?" 

Remus held his tongue, watching the two explanation sides instead of interjecting with his own opinion. For one; because he was fairly sure Thomas wouldn't like the technicalities of the answer, and for two; because he was morbidly curious what Logan and Janus would come up with. Was it denial and obfuscation through information dumping time? Or facing the truth and clear, logical answers time? Would they work together or would Janus shut their logic down for the day with a twist of his hand? 

The scales on Janus' face shifted and rippled, the scars pulling. Remus focused on the clink of pottery the mug made when it hit the coffee table and the almost-silent rasp of a gulp. In the end Thomas' deceit let his shoulders slump and he nodded, waving a hand. Remus beamed at that clear signal that Janus was still the sneaky snakey he knew, opening his mouth. But he'd misunderstood. Sometime in the last months something had changed, and Remus... didn't know what. But Logan clearly did because he took the cue as though it had been rehearsed, or perhaps was just familiar by then.

"I think you know the answer to that, Thomas," he said as Remus' stomach sunk steadily lower, turned to stone and pressing heavily on all of the loudly protesting organs beneath it. "And I think you might also know why Roman's been struggling so much lately."

"I drew the lines wrong, didn't I?" Thomas whispered, to the glorious musical accompaniment of Patton sniffling miserably. 

In all his years of existence Remus had never felt this feeling before. _Victory_. 

It felt _good_.


End file.
